The Chipped Cup
by LoveFromShinola
Summary: Just a little something to repair the wounds in every Rumbellers soul. Post 2x11 - The Outsider. What might it take for Belle to remember the man she loves?


**AN:**

**I just can't relax. I have yet to calm down from the extraordinary rollercoaster ride of emotions that was The Outsider. No episode in the history of Once has gripped me and thrilled me and terrified me and made me so happy all at once. Rumbelle, as you may have guessed from that rant, are my OTP. I will go down with this ship is a saying we Tumblr users frequently adopt, and we Rumbellers stuck to our guns on Sunday. We all went down like the Titanic when Belle fell over that line. The tag on is nothing but an ocean of tears and stress and babbling. This is my attempt at calming myself and the fandom down with a little ficlet. Hope you like x**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ONCE UPON A TIME**

She didn't have a name. She knew that now. The fog had cleared, and she'd come to terms with the fact that she'd somehow woken up outside with a crying man looming over her, screaming another woman's name. There'd be a car crash too. One man run over, one man's head smashed against a steering wheel. But being a mental patient opened a mind up to all sorts of random events – Nameless just took it in her stride.

She'd never had a name. Well…not never. She presumed that she'd been born and given a name, and then things had happened, one after another, and there she'd been, in a basement psych ward, with nothing but a haze of clouded pictures. Silhouettes of men and women and places. Castles and sea ports. Forests and bustling villages. But nothing clear.

They'd taken her to the hospital. But this time they hadn't put her underground. Nameless didn't say anything. She didn't know a lot, but she knew she hadn't liked it underground.

The man had come with her, the man from that glowing line in the road. The man who'd shouted 'Belle' at her so painfully, like he'd expected her to respond. Like he was talking to the right person. Was he crazy too? Whatever he was, he was staying close by and yet somehow staying away, but Nameless tried to let it bother her too much.

Everyone around her had an air of shock. Of course, that would happen, with car crashes and head injuries and gun shot wounds at night time in the middle of nowhere.

Gun shot wounds.

She'd been shot. Again she registered the pain. They'd taken the bullet out a few hours ago, and she was laid in a comfortable hospital bed, with fluffed up pillows and blankets and a real window.

He was outside. He'd left for half an hour or so, and gotten back a few minutes past. And now he just sat there. She looked away. When she thought about that strange man it made her head hurt. He made her brain even fuzzier than it already was. If that was possible.

And then he was in the room. He was jittery, nervous, and tear tracks were still faintly visible on his face, like he'd scrubbed at them, but not hard enough.

'Hey,' he said, obviously expecting something like contempt. She mustered up enough of that foreign thing called sympathy to give a casual, 'Hello,' in return. It was strange for someone to actually talk to her and not just bark commands. Or was it? Somehow the basement seemed ages ago – filled in with yet more blur.

'I – um – this is going to sound strange, B-.' He'd almost called it her again. She tried not to notice. There was a little something in all the fuzz, the even more distorted fuzz that came when he was near, that spoke compassion softly. 'I – I want you to look at something. Just look at it – and tell me if you remem – if you know anything, about it.'

She frowned, but quickly tried to disguise it. She didn't understand this man. His presence made her head hurt. But that little compassion glimmer forced curiosity. What she wasn't expecting was the object he produced.

'A chipped cup?' Her bewildered tone hurt him somehow. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, quickly. He looked to be pushing passivity onto his face before, seeming unable to speak, he shakily extended the object.

This was important to him. She knew that just from the way he held it. She took it, carefully, delicately, and she heard him let out something between a sigh and a gasp.

All she had to do was look at it.

It was a pretty little porcelain thing, painted finely. The chip should have marred it, but she found herself thinking it made it unique, special.

He was still looking at her, like he was hoping for something, and that compassion inside her butted against the fog. She _wanted_ to know something.

But there was nothing in her to know.

It was just a cup.

'I'm sorry, I -'

Somewhere in the hospital an alarm shrieked, the tone startling.

In an instant the cup slipped from Belle's grasp.

_Belle…_

Ogres and desperation.

'_He could be on his way right now, Papa.'_

An appearance…him.

'_My price…is her.'_

Bravery winning out.

'_I will go with him.'_

The beginning.

'_It's forever, dearie.'_

'_The deal is struck.'_

'_Let's call it…your room.'_

'_I'm so sorry, it's chipped.'_

'_It's just a cup.'_

It would never be just a cup. And then there was that day, the first time she saw something no-one had seen in centuries.

'_Why do you spin so much?'_

'_What did you do, nail them down?'_

'_I'll put the curtains back up.'_

'_There's no need. I'll get used to it.'_

Unravelling him, day by day.

'_I think you were lonely.'_

'_Was there a son?'_

'_There was. I lost him.'_

_Just an old woman selling flowers.'_

'_Love is layered.'_

Love is letting go.

'_Oh no. I expect I'll never see you again.'_

A realisation.

'_I could love him.'_

Hope.

'_And since then you've loved no-one. And no-one has loved you.'_

A kiss.

'_It's working!'_

Misunderstandings. What felt like the end.

'_Who are you talking to?'_

'_The Queen! Your friend, the Queen!'_

'_No-one could ever, ever love me!'_

The world coming crashing down – every hope shattered.

'_I don't want you anymore, dearie.'_

'_My power means more to me, than you.'_

There was a blank period…the curse! Storybrooke! She'd been in Storybrooke! And then she'd been set free, and she'd found him again…

'_Excuse me, are you Mr Gold?'_

'_I was told to find you and tell you that Regina locked me up. Does that mean anything to you?'_

'_You're real. You're alive.'_

'_Oh yes, yes, I'll protect you.'_

She hadn't known him…the curse. Regina's curse! But then it was broken…

'_Rumplestiltskin, wait.'_

'_I remember.'_

'_I love you.'_

'_Yes. Yes. And I love you too.'_

It was broken. She'd known him…Rumplestiltskin. And they'd started afresh.

'_My darling Belle…'_

There'd been some bumps.

'_Belle, I'm sorry. I am.'_

'_You need courage, Rumple.'_

'_Do you remember who I am?'_

'_I am a coward.'_

But they'd gotten through.

'_Have you ever had a hamburger?'_

'_Well it did take me a little time to get to know you. They will.'_

'_Oh well, that looks delicious! Thank you very much, Belle.'_

'_I don't suppose I could come with you?'_

'_I truly wish you could.'_

Until…Hook.

'_You're the one who broke into my cell at the Queen's palace.'_

'_You wanted to kill Rumplestiltskin.'_

'_Oh I still do. But right now I'll settle for you.'_

'_Rumple, I'm in the elevator…'_

'_You've nothing to fear, I'm here now.'_

Hook's interference had set their steady world teetering. Why could they never just have their happy ending?

'_You're so close to finding your son. Please, don't let your hatred for this man get in the way of that!'_

'_He tried to harm you.'_

'_This is my fight!'_

'_And this is my fault!'_

'_How exactly are you gonna help me?'_

'_Well I'm not just gonna sit here and do nothing!'_

'_No. You're gonna go back to the library, lock the door, and wait for me to dispense with this problem…I don't want to lose you too.'_

If only she had waited. She'd found Hook's ship.

'_I'm not afraid of you, and I'm not leaving without that.'_

The shawl…the only way Rumple could find his son.

'_He killed her.'_

His wife…Milah. Even after that she'd still loved him. She'd always love him.

'_Why would you want to fight for a man like that?'_

'_Because I still see good in him. Because I believe he's changed. Because his heart is true.'_

The inevitable showdown.

'_What magic are you going to hide behind today?'_

'_Oh no, not magic.'_

But she'd won him back.

'_There's still good in you. I see it. I've always seen it.'_

'_Please show me I'm not wrong.'_

She'd gone with him to test the town boundary – he'd made a potion to cross – magic existed! – He wanted to find his son. Baelfire.

'_After everything you've learned about me, after everything I've done…why haven't you given up on me?'_

'_I learned a long time ago, that when you find something that's worth fighting for, you never give up.'_

It had worked! He'd been able to cross the line. Though the fleeting moment of thinking he'd forgotten her had been unbearable.

'_It worked! Now you can find your son.'_

'_Oh Belle, I so wish you were coming with me.'_

'_As do I. But it doesn't matter.'_

'_Why not?'_

'_Because you'll find him. And when you do, I'll be here waiting for you when you get back.'_

After that was a blur. She'd…she'd…

'I forgot you.'

Rumplestiltskin stiffened, the delicate weight of their chipped cup caught in his fingers, a hair's breadth from the ground. He daren't believe the possibilities that roamed through his head at that. She sounded so much like his Belle. But she was just voicing a theory. She couldn't have remembered. He needed powerful magic. She'd only dropped a cup – no. No. She hadn't just dropped _a cup_. It wasn't just a cup. It was _the _cup. _Their _cup.

The last time she'd dropped it, they'd started on the long path to love, that love he'd ridiculed in others for so long. He'd felt a spark of something he hadn't understood when she'd looked so afraid with this cup in her hands. At his dismissal, she'd begun, he thought, to start being less afraid, and he'd resolved to be less frightening. To give her her own room, not a dungeon, to present her discreetly with a dress or two. That was when something tentative had started. The seed planted, that became the bud, that became the flower of their love. Had repeating that action triggered something? Had true love proved itself again to be the most powerful magic of all?

'What did you say?'

'I said…I forgot you. How could I forget you?'

'Magic works in mysterious ways.'

'Magic shouldn't be enough to make me forget you.' His once true love choked, catching his hand. Was it true? Had she remembered? 'Not again, Rumplestiltskin. Not again.'

He released a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, as tears streamed freely down his cheeks. She smiled at him, looked at him with those beautiful eyes full of love and he lost control of everything. To see those eyes filled with a love he thought he'd never see again…the wonder of it was too much to bear.

'Belle? Is it – is it really you?'

'Yes. Yes, Rumple. It's me.' She flung her arms around his neck and he buried his head against her chest, clutching her to him fiercely, determined to never let go. 'It's me, it's me,' she whispered against his head, and he realised she was crying too.

'Oh, Belle,' he could hardly breathe, but she was here. _His_ Belle was here, and Hook had failed. True love had won out, and she knew him and loved him and every feeling he'd had in the last day hit him full force. The mind-numbing desperation of seeing her blank eyes staring up at him in fear.

'_Who's Belle?'_

'_Oh fear not, she'll live. She'll just have no idea who you are.'_

'_What you've done cannot be undone...'_

That he was happy to be proved wrong was the greatest understatement he'd ever known. Happiness was a weekday lie-in, your favourite meal, a nice birthday gift. This…this was something beyond happiness. Beyond words. What was lost had been restored. His life had come back to him when he'd been facing a deep, dark hole in his heart without her there. He'd contemplated what might happen, terrified at the prospect that she'd never remember. That she'd be too scared of him to come near, that she'd ignore him for the rest of their days. That she'd…that she'd fall in love with someone else.

'Rumple?' Her voice in his ear brought another sound of immense relief from him, and he pulled away to look into her eyes again, now worried and full of pity. 'I'm sorry.'

'You have nothing to be sorry for. It's _him _who…but we won't talk about him now. Not now. I – I love you, Belle.'

'Oh, Rumple.' She kissed him quickly on the mouth. 'I love you too.'

'_You could've had happiness, if you just believed that someone could want you. But you couldn't take the chance. Now you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it. Forever. All you'll have, is an empty heart, and a chipped cup.'_

He had regretted it, all those long years ago. Regretted it so bitterly he could still feel the sting – helped none by Regina's sickening lie. But now he'd taken the chance. He loved her, and she loved him. His heart wasn't empty. And thanks to their chipped cup, it never would be again.

**AN:**

**Okay, I have to stop there. This was purely written for my own sanity and Rumbelle feels after seeing The Outsider and the disastrous Canadian promo for 2x12. Just…God. I will die. God bless all you Rumbellers. I had to wade through all of the Rumbelle feels and angst to get all those quotes, so I'm feeling a bit erratic at the moment. We have gone down with our ship, but we're desperately trying to keep it afloat on a sea of our tears. Hopefully soon, things will be set right.**


End file.
